Slow Death

Fall.
Fall leaves and stain the ground with red
And orange and yellow and violet.
Little pretty deaths,
Crunching beneath my feet as I wait.
The air sings hallow songs and lets me feel the chill in my bones.
The sun warms half-heartedly;
He can’t stay long.
It don’t let it bother me.
I watch the leaves,
And wonder if they are dancing to the same slow tune.

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